


For Azeroth!

by Aksannyi



Category: NCIS
Genre: (sort of), F/M, Fun, Online Relationship, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 16:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11085969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aksannyi/pseuds/Aksannyi
Summary: Ziva starts playing World of Warcraft so she can find new ways to harass McGee for his obsession with it, but the game quickly becomes her guilty pleasure.





	For Azeroth!

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea inspired by a conversation on tumblr where I was complaining about not having time to play WoW, and a friend said that it sounded like it could be a fanfic. Wheels began to turn, and this fic was born. 
> 
> I know that many of you are not gamers and have no interest in World of Warcraft, so I tried to explain as much as I could for those who don’t understand the game. At any rate, I hope you enjoy this.

The first time she logged into the game, she told herself it was only out of curiosity. McGee had been talking about it for months, including some movie that was coming out that he couldn’t _wait_ to see, and she’d gone on a googling spree, looking up information on it. She found that there was a free trial, so she decided to download the game and log in. Just to see what all of the fuss was about. If nothing else, she’d have some ammunition with which to harass McGee later.

At least, that’s what she told herself. It _wasn’t_ because she had any interest in it at all. None.

Ziva thought that maybe there would be a tutorial character or something, but she was prompted to make her own character, first selecting race – which seemed to be purely aesthetic, though there was something called “Alliance” and “Horde” that certain races were a part of. She wasn’t sure exactly what the difference was between this Alliance and Horde, but it must serve some purpose if there was a distinction made upon character selection. She supposed that it didn’t really matter in the end, and if she was only going to play long enough to get a feel for the game so she could finally tell McGee that it wasn’t that damn great and to _shut up, already,_ then it wouldn’t make one lick of difference.

But there was also this matter of class. What was the difference, she mused, between a Hunter and a Priest? A Mage and a Warlock? She spent the better part of twenty minutes reading all of the descriptions, finally settling on Rogue as her class of choice, and a Blood Elf as her race.

Then came the customization options, which allowed her to change the facial expression, hairstyle and color, and even the earrings. She clicked on the “Create” button, but was prompted for a name.

At this point, she’d already spent more time than she’d ever intended on this game, and so she clicked on the button that said “Randomize” to generate a name for her. The first name, Tanna, was too simple for her, and she clicked on the button second time, and the name Sharavia appeared in the name box. It was not a name that she would have thought of herself, but it seemed suitable for the pony-tailed brunette, and Ziva clicked the button to finish and then clicked to enter the world.

“What am I doing with my life?” she muttered to herself as a loading screen popped up, and she waited for whatever was coming next.

It was only a minute before a sweeping scene popped up and a voiceover began to talk about the Blood Elves, giving a slight backstory for the character that Ziva had just started. If she had to comment, she’d say that it was a good way to orient herself into the game, even though she had been reluctant to even play it at all.

She clicked on the person with the yellow exclamation mark over their head, and found them to be offering a quest. Accepting the quest and completing it was easy, with plenty of instruction along the way, and before she knew it, she had reached level 5 with hardly any effort. It had been less than an hour of play, and already, she was well on her way to being hooked.

When she logged out of the game a couple of hours later, she had reached level 11. There was something about unlocking new abilities as she progressed that was very appealing to her, and she realized that she actually wanted to keep playing this game.

“No one can ever know,” she muttered to herself as she went to the website and paid for a full copy of the game and a monthly recurring subscription. She logged back into the game, and worked on leveling her character further.

Rogue, she found, suited her greatly. It was a class that hid in the shadows and waited until the subject of her attacks was least suspecting her, which was something that she personally had a lot of experience with. The fact that the character got to pick the pockets of her victims was an added bonus, though she wasn’t entirely sure why some targets had pockets and others didn’t. Maybe it had something to do with the type of monster she was fighting. She’d figure it out eventually.

Ziva began to look forward to getting home and spending a few hours in the game progressing her character. She’d found that she could level in several different ways. There was the questing model she’d learned at the start, which was probably the most basic of ways to raise her character’s level, but she could also join a group to enter a dungeon, which would yield additional experience points and also some pretty good equipment rewards, and she could also join into a player-versus-player game known as a battleground. She was new at the game, but she found that she was already becoming very skilled in the art of surprising other characters and killing them, and as she saw her kill counts starting to climb, she decided that she’d found her niche within the game.

She was ashamed to admit it, but she’d become hooked.

It wasn’t very long before she hit the level cap, and she started to look up ways to compete in what the more seasoned players called “endgame content.” It turned out that there were a lot of options. Ziva tried her hand at some of these things, but eventually decided that player-versus-player was where she would truly have the most fun, and began working, with the help of some very descriptive websites, to maximize her character so that she would be the best Rogue on her server.

It was a Thursday night when she was playing, after recently having completed another random battleground where she had skillfully helped her group wipe floor with the other team’s blood, that she got a message from someone, a character named Perphunter.

“Hey, you’re pretty good at pvp man, you wanna join an arena team?” She did a quick search of the player’s name and learned that he was a Hunter. _Well, that should have been obvious,_ she thought to herself. 

“Arena team?” she muttered to herself. She’d heard of the arena matches, definitely a place for much more skilled players than she. Players who had been playing for more than three months, certainly.

Not wanting to be rude, she replied back, unsure really how to tell the guy that she wasn’t sure it was for her. “Um …” she paused after writing that, trying to think of what to say. How weird it was to communicate with someone she didn’t even know, behind a cartoon avatar! “Well I don’t know if I’m really ready for that, I’m still kinda new.”

The reply came almost instantly. “Really? You had the most kills in that last bg.”

Ziva smirked as she grunted to herself, a satisfied, “Hmm.” She _knew_ she had the highest score, it was what she prided herself on, after all.

Before she could respond to the other player, he (she was assuming it was a he) sent her another message. “At least try it. I’ve been looking for a rogue for a twos team for a while.” Ziva couldn’t really find a polite way to turn this town, and she thought about it for just a second before replying.

“Okay, sure.”

What did she have to lose? It could be fun.

Once she started to learn the ropes of the arena environment, which was a much higher-pressure player-versus-player match setting, Ziva found that she and Perphunter were unstoppable together. They’d lost a few of their earliest matches as they were both adjusting to each other’s playstyle, but they began to win after that. A lot.

It started to become another thing she looked forward to when she logged into the game. She was developing this friendship with another player, someone whose real life identity she didn’t know, and they were currently working their way up the ranks of Arena teams on their server. “Ever think about voice chat?” the message popped up in her chat box one night as they were getting ready to enter another ranked match.

“Voice chat?”

“Yeah, as the teams get tougher it’s easier to coordinate our attacks. We’d really be unstoppable then.” Ziva was taken aback. She’d heard about the sexism in the game. Heard about and seen it, firsthand. She hadn’t once let on to anyone, not even Perphunter, that she was a woman playing the game, deciding that it wasn’t worth the hassle. Voice chat, however, would make it completely obvious that she had misrepresented herself, at least by omission.

When she didn’t respond right away, Perp – as she’d taken to calling him – messaged her again. “I sense some hesitation.”

“I want to win, but I don’t like the idea of talking over a mic,” she replied, though she wondered if that would just make her seem shady. Perhaps it did, but she was entitled to a little privacy from someone whose first name she didn’t even know.

“Some of the voice programs have voice masking features. I’ll send you the link to the ones I know. That way, you can talk over the feed but no one would recognize your voice. I use it too.”

It was surprising that just these words made her feel a lot more relief about the entire situation. She and Perp could wipe the floor with their opponents and he’d never have to know who she was in real life. Somehow, as long as she was able to stay relatively anonymous through this game, she didn’t have to feel as though this game had actually become a part of her life. It was still a separate entity. Sharavia was just a toon, an avatar on a screen. She wasn’t an extension of Ziva.

She ignored the voice in her head that taunted her. _Just keep telling yourself that._

Soon enough, she and Perp had both downloaded – and paid for – the voice chat program they’d agreed on. The voice-changing feature had been the selling point, otherwise they could have simply used the free ones. The voice chat brought their play to another level, and within a few weeks they were climbing the ranks of the “2s bracket,” as it was called, and they were becoming very well-known across several servers. It had only been six months since she’d decided to try the game purely on a whim, and now she found herself rushing home every night to log on and join Perp for some digitized ass-whipping.

When had this become her life?

* * *

 

The case had been long and tiring, and they were leaving much later than she’d have preferred. She’d planned to get online and win a couple matches with Perp at eight, but that hour had long passed, much to her dismay. She didn’t know him – not even his first name – and she had no way to contact him and let him know that she had been delayed at work. She felt terrible.

When Gibbs finally gave them permission to leave for the evening, she grabbed all of her things and bolted toward the elevator, darting in quickly and smashing the button to take her down to the parking lot. Tony followed behind her, noticing her haste to leave the building and darting in just before the doors were about to close. She glared at him.

“What’s the hurry, Ziva, you got a date?” Rather than explaining the true reason she couldn’t wait to get home, she nodded, but chose not to say another word about it. Let him stew a little bit, since he always got so worked up about her choosing to live her life.

“And I’m late,” was all she said, glaring at him pointedly. It was strange to think of her meeting with Perphunter like that, because it wasn’t a date. Not at all. It was just a time they’d scheduled where they would meet up. Virtually.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just cancel. Or did I miss seeing you on the phone with someone?”

She glared at him. How could she explain to him that she couldn’t contact this person? “Why are you watching me that closely?”

“I…” he trailed off. She had him there, and he knew it. Tony had always been nosy, and that much would never change, so she took every opportunity to call him out on it. “Anyway, I too am in a hurry, Ziva. I’m meeting with a dashing lady online tonight.”

“Online? Have you been taking pointers from McGee?”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.” He looked at her with his eyes narrowed, feigning annoyance, but she could tell that he admired her dig – not just at his expense, but at McGee’s, as well. She could tell that he was impressed with her, and she gloated inwardly at her small victory.

“So,” she said as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out, “spill.”

“You actually want to know about this? Since when do you care about who I date?”

“I don’t, but you’re going to tell me anyway, so you might as well get it over with,” she said noncommittally. She didn’t enjoy hearing about his various exploits, but she tried to at least be his friend, and part of being his friend would have to be accepting that he liked to date around, and that his love life didn’t involve her. _Don’t go there,_ she reminded herself, and she turned to look at Tony pointedly, urging him to speak.  

He shrugged. “Well, she doesn’t really say much about herself, to be honest. Really kind of cautious about what she shares. I don’t even know her name, actually, just like… a username.”

“Are you sure she is really female?”

“Pretty sure,” he answered honestly, bracing himself for what was sure to be a sound teasing.  

“I am absolutely never going to let you hear the end of it if you find out, months down the line, that you’ve been talking with a man,” was all she said, surprising him by giving him the benefit of the doubt.  

Tony shook his head. “It’s not a man.”

“But you just said you don’t know for sure,” she reminded him, and he stopped, turning to face her as he spoke. He placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned forward slightly before responding.

“Listen, I can just sense it. The way she talks. Men don’t talk like that.”

She looked up at him, cocking her head to the side and trying to read him. “You make an awful lot of assumptions about a person whose name you do not even know.”

He sighed, deflating a bit. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But she’s been very evasive, and she seems like someone I’d like to get to know, if she’d open up more.”

“Give her time, Tony,” was all she said. It almost seemed as though he was talking about her own situation, but then again, there was no way her Hunter teammate even knew she wasn’t a guy. She’d never said or done anything to indicate that she was female, nor had she given away any personal information. The voice changer was wonderful, as well, as it made her sound like someone she wasn’t without making her sound robotic. “Some people just take a while to trust others.”

“Yeah,” was all he said, and he unlocked his car, giving her a quick wave. “Good night, Ziva,” he said, and she echoed the sentiment as she walked the rest of the way across the lot to her own car, getting in and settling down before starting it up and zooming out of the parking lot, hoping that when she got home, Perphunter wouldn’t be upset that she’d ditched their meeting.

Because of the late hour in which they’d been dismissed by Gibbs, traffic was light and it didn’t take Ziva all that long to get home. When she got there, she kicked her shoes off by the door and immediately set about logging into the game, hoping that her friend would be online, and that if he was, he wouldn’t be too upset with her.

When she logged on, however, Perp wasn’t even online. It was weird not having him there to talk to, so she puttered around the game a bit, looking through the auction house for random things she might want to spend her gold on, but retail therapy had never really done it for her in real life, and in much the same way, it wasn’t really helping in game. Had he logged on and waited for her before giving up and logging off?

There was a new patch of content out that she hadn’t really explored yet because it wasn’t geared toward PvP. Maybe she could go run through that a bit, see what the new area looked like, and possibly take out her frustrations on some unsuspecting Alliance players in the vicinity. That was usually fairly amusing.

Just as she’d checked her map and gotten the introductory quest, she heard that tell-tale notification sound that Perphunter had sent her a message.

“Hey man, sorry. Got tied up at work. Hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” he said, and she felt a weird kinship with him, despite not even knowing his situation. How weird was it that they’d both gotten held up at their jobs on the same night?

She smiled at her luck, for she wasn’t the only person who had a demanding boss who kept her well past what anyone could consider a reasonable work schedule.

She wondered who this Perphunter was and what he did for a living, but she’d decided not to ask. If she asked him personal questions, then he would likely do the same, and she didn’t want to give him that much information about herself. He seemed a nice enough guy with whom she got along quite well, but that didn’t mean that she could fully trust him. And besides, theirs was merely an arrangement. Practically business, in fact. They met each other at prescribed times, wiped the floor with other Arena teams, and reaped their rewards.

“Nah, just got home myself,” was all she responded.

“Get in chat and let’s push for rating.”

She smiled at that. Perphunter was very quick to get down to business, and she rather liked that about him. He didn’t want to piss around with small talk or other nonsense, but get right into the killing and working toward getting their rating up. She almost wondered if they should try to get a third person and play threes. With a healer on their team, they could ascend the ranks and even compete at BlizzCon, which was apparently very prestigious, though then she would have to let her anonymity go.

Then again, if they even got that far, wouldn’t it be worth it to tell him who she was?

It wasn’t long before it was nearly 1AM and she’d lost all track of time while playing. She and Perp had joked with each other while waiting for their matches to load, and had spoken only to coordinate their attacks during. Teams were falling beneath their feet, and while the bracket was getting a lot harder – the skill gap seemed a lot harder to make up – the matches were becoming more and more fun, and a lot more intense, as well.

“Did you ever think about doing threes?” she asked him late that night when they’d pretty much decided to call it and pick back up the next day.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, then paused for just as second before adding, “But we’d need another person, and I don’t really know anyone else who plays this game.”

“Me either,” she responded, but then thought briefly of McGee. “Except…”

“What?”

“There’s this guy I work with who kind of got me into this game, but I haven’t told him I play it because I was embarrassed,” she said. She didn’t even know what class McGee even played, but admitting it to him – especially where Tony would have a mind to also harp on her – would be too much.

“He got you into the game but you’re embarrassed to tell him?” When he said it that way, it sounded pretty ridiculous, she had to admit, and she quickly responded, setting the record straight.

“Well, I spent a lot of time teasing him for playing it, and then I decided to try it so I’d have more reasons to tease him and the next thing I knew, I was hooked. But after all the grief I gave him for it, I didn’t want him to know.”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever revealed anything about yourself, you know,” he responded, and she stiffened at the realization. He was right, but that wasn’t much of anything, was it? A lot of people might be embarrassed to admit that they go home at night and spend – _five hours –_ playing a MMORPG.

“I’m sure you’re going to use your elite hunter skills to track me down now, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he joked, and she laughed back, but only half-heartedly. She didn’t want him to know who she was, and he knew that.

His laughter trailed off, as well, and she could sense that there was a bit of weirdness between them. “Are you like, a wanted criminal or something?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, it’s just… I’ve never talked to anyone online who was this evasive,” he explained.

“I am not a wanted criminal,” she said, feeling a bit insulted. Was it really that unusual for someone to value their privacy online? Was it really that big a deal that she wanted to maintain the relative anonymity that an online avatar provided her? It wasn’t that she thought this guy was going to come find her and try to wear her skin as a coat or something equally morbid; she just didn’t feel comfortable with this level of online interaction.

He sighed, and she could sense his frustration. Perhaps if he knew her background he would understand why she was so evasive, but it was nice interacting with someone who didn’t know about all of her baggage. “Then what gives? I mean, you could at least tell me something stupid. Like where you’re from, or what you do for a living, or even your cat’s name.”

“I don’t have a cat,” she replied almost automatically.

“Well that’s something,” he joked.

“Why do you want to know so badly? Isn’t the only thing that matters the fact that we’re an excellent pair and we absolutely obliterate our opponents?”

“I mean, no?” When she didn’t respond right away, he kept speaking, hoping to explain himself. “Listen, and don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you’re an all right sort of person, and even though I don’t know much about you, I consider what we have to be a friendship. A friendship based on digital killing, but a friendship nonetheless. So it sucks that I can’t just call you my friend and say, ‘Oh, my friend Jim-Bob who lives in Transylvania and I were talking about that TV show the other night.’ You know?”

“You talk to your real-life friends about me?” She couldn’t imagine any scenario where she would want to talk to people in her life – namely, Tony and McGee – about her online activities.

“Not really, well, sort of. I told my coworker I had an online meeting tonight, but I couldn’t really give her any details. Mainly because I had none to give.”

“She probably thinks you’re weird, dude,” she said, using the word she’d seen other people use online a lot, hopefully to throw him off from the fact that she was a woman. It felt foreign, but it seemed to fit the persona.

“I know she thinks I’m weird,” he replied immediately, followed by a slight chuckle.  

“So why do you want to talk about me that badly, if you know that your friends and family are going to think you’re weird? Seems like something I’d avoid,” she argued, and there was a long pause before he answered.

“I guess.”

“Listen, I don’t dislike you or anything, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t have fun. I played the trial a few months ago just so I could tell my coworker that it wasn’t that great and to just shut up about it, and then I was hooked and I was so embarrassed that I decided to keep it my secret. And of course you don’t know him, but...”

“You don’t want real-life and game-life to interfere,” he finished for her, and she smiled at the way he almost immediately got it.

“Yeah.”

“Well I didn’t mean to be pushy. You just seem like the sort of person I could be actual friends with, and not just killing partners.”

“Killing partners is probably something reserved _only_ for friends, at least in my experience,” she joked, and he laughed. _Oh, if he only knew,_ she thought to herself before she spoke again. “Sorry. I’m just very cautious about what I do online. I’d need to know I can trust you completely.”

“I guess that makes sense. Geez, what are you, CIA?”

“That’s classified.” He laughed at that, and while it wasn’t his real voice she was hearing, she recognized the sound for what it was – a person who was delighted by her response, who genuinely cared about what she had to say. She was beginning to like making him laugh. Maybe Perphunter didn’t know the first thing about her, but she still felt like he was rapidly becoming a friend.

“I live in Washington,” was all she said, giving him just a small tidbit of information. She didn’t clarify which Washington, and he didn’t ask, allowing her to give only what she was comfortable giving.

He didn’t press her for the remainder of the night, and they a little while longer entering matches and obliterating everyone who crossed their paths. _Maybe playing WoW isn’t something to be ashamed of after all_ , Ziva thought to herself when she finally logged off for the night, crawling into bed and settling against her pillow. After all, she was enjoying herself, wasn’t she?

It was that thought that remained with her until she drifted off into a calm, pixelated destruction-fueled sleep, well past the hour that she should have been in bed for the day to come. She’d get coffee in the morning, because she was rapidly beginning to realize that her friendship with Perphunter was worth it and that someday, she’d have to be honest with him.

* * *

It was a slow day in the bullpen, with no cases for a change and little to do, making Gibbs especially cranky. On days like this, while the team was idle, he was forced to listen to his agents’ constant yammering, and today was no exception.

McGee had come to work in an unusually bad mood, and Tony and Ziva both made it their mission to use their investigative prowess to determine what had him so sour, but so far he hadn’t budged. Ziva caught Tony’s eye from across the aisle and he winked, indicating he had something else up his sleeve. His message was clear: _Play along._ She nodded her head just barely – enough so that Tony could see that she had gotten his intent, but not enough for McGee to have noticed that she’d moved at all.

Being able to communicate with one’s partner without words had its advantages.

“So what’s the matter, Probie, video game got you down? Can’t beat the tough level on Power Puff Girls Jamboree?”

“That’s not even a real game,” McGee grumbled, narrowing his eyes as he dropped his pen on the ground. Heaving a great sigh, he leaned over to pick it up, only to find that both Tony and Ziva had migrated from their desks so that they were hovering over his. _Great,_ he thought. Tony and Ziva were insufferable when they started in on him, and today he was not in anything resembling the proper mood to deal with them.

Tony faked a pout, then continued. “Aww, Power Puff Girls is too tough for you? What’s the matter, little Timmy, can’t beat the first level?”

“Tony, I’m in no mood,” he practically seethed, and Ziva took that as her cue.

“Ooh, such anger! You know, McGee, I could help you channel that. Really get a good, strong punch going, get it out of your system,” she offered. The gym was just downstairs and the punching bags were good for it – she knew from experience.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Uh-uh. Not buying it. You come over here with _him,”_ he nodded toward Tony, “and expect me to believe that all you want is to help me out?” He huffed haughtily, knowing he was too good to fall for their ruse.

“Well I am just _saying,”_ she continued, acting as though she hadn’t even heard him, despite his savviness to what she and Tony were up to. “If I am to truly help you cope with your anger, you are going to have to tell me what it is that is bothering you, that’s all.”

“Something about having a face to take it out on, right Ziva?”

“Something like that, Tony,” she said, trying not to smile as she nodded at him.

“No. No way,” McGee answered.

“What, was it that stupid game you always play all the time?” Tony asked, a throwaway comment, but McGee’s expression betrayed him and Tony zoomed in, going for the kill. “It _was,_ wasn’t it? What happened? Big bad bunny kick your ass or something?”

“There aren’t any big bad bunnies,” was all he said, and both Tony and Ziva knew that they were finally getting somewhere with him. _Shit,_ Ziva thought to herself, trying to remember not to give anything away that would let on to either of them that she knew anything about the game.

“Big bad wolf?” Ziva asked, and Tony took that one and ran with it, his face lighting up at the phrasing.

“Did they huff, and puff, and blow your house down?” He barely registered Ziva’s confusion as he was too busy reveling in McGee’s anger, and before he had a chance to even check to make sure that Ziva had understood the reference, McGee finally caved, and he began to spill everything.

“Fine. Fine, you know what? Fine,” he said, pounding his fist down on the desk for emphasis. “I was playing a difficult match in PvP – that’s player versus player – and we were just about to go up to the next ratings bracket and this team came in and _usually_ in these ‘best of three’ matches we trade games and make a match of it but no, this team absolutely destroyed my buddy and I, like I barely got a single hit off… it took _so many points_ off my team’s rating and we basically have to climb the ranks all over again, okay? Months of freaking work for one team to crap all over it, _that’s_ why I’m in a bad mood, all right?”

Neither Tony nor Ziva said anything, as they were both surprised by McGee’s uncharacteristic outburst. Having played arena matches herself she knew that it could be frustrating, but she’d never gotten this angry at the game when she’d lost – though losing wasn’t something that happened to her team very often.

“It’s just a game,” she supplied, but she knew how weak that sounded to her own ears, having experienced the high-pressure environment of the higher arena ranks.

McGee practically growled at her and she quickly stepped back, knowing when to back off. “There will be other matches,” Tony said, trying to cheer him up, now that he knew what had McGee so upset. Once he calmed down some, they could go back to teasing him about it, but they weren’t so heartless that they’d continue to beat on him while he was already down.

“It’s the end of the PvP season in a couple weeks, so no. We won’t get to the top bracket in time, even if my partner and I take vacation and play nonstop in that time period. It’s just _unfair,”_ he whined, grumbling underneath his breath. “Stupid hunter/rogue combination,” he added under his breath, and Ziva stiffened at that. _It couldn’t be,_ she thought to herself. There were millions of people who played that game, and there had to be dozens of hunter/rogue teams.

Tony’s eyes narrowed, and Ziva wondered if he was looking for a new angle with which to make fun of him. “Hey McGee, what’s your character’s name?” Tony asked, and Ziva wondered why he cared to know.

“Why, so you can make fun of him?” McGee asked defensively.

“Him?” Ziva teased, acting as amused as she could, given that she thought of her own character as a separate entity with pronouns, as well.

“No, I just want to know. What’s your character’s name?”

Not wanting to argue and knowing that Tony would get it out of him regardless, he caved. “I uh… I play a Priest. It’s… Holycop.” It wasn’t uncommon for people to make ridiculous pun names for their WoW characters, but this was silly, even by McGee’s standards.

Ziva snorted then. She couldn’t help it. She and her online friend had wiped the floor with McGee’s team just last night. McGee looked at her funny for a moment, but he figured she was just making fun of him, because that’s just what Tony and Ziva _did_.

It was Tony, however, who noticed how Ziva’s face had gone pale at the mention of the character name. “Hey Ziva, what do you think about the idea of killing partners?”

 _Killing partners._ The phrase seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn’t quite place it. “What does this have to do with McGee’s losing streak?” she asked, unsure where he was trying to go. Had Tony somehow figured her out? Was he about to start in on her as well?

“I mean, don’t you think that someone you make plans with on your spare time to go out and kill digital pixelated characters is someone you might call a friend?”

All the color drained from her face. He _knew._ “Just what are you talking about?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even. McGee watched with interest as well, wondering exactly what it was that had caused Tony to stop messing with him and to start focusing his attention on Ziva.

He stepped forward, ignoring McGee’s presence for the moment, leaning into Ziva’s space before he spoke quietly, whispering in her ear. “Oh, I think you know, _Sharavia,”_ he said, and a chill went down her spine. How the hell did he know that name?

Suddenly it dawned on her. Tony’s strange online acquaintance who was entirely too evasive for his liking – the one he thought was a woman but couldn’t be entirely sure about. Perphunter’s late night at work coinciding with her own. The way he had always seemed so familiar and easy to talk to despite the voice changing program, but she couldn’t quite place how she’d grown to be so at ease with him so quickly.

Tony was Perphunter, and they’d both been playing this game together without the other one noticing. “No,” she said shaking her head in disbelief.

“What?” McGee finally asked, unable to withstand not knowing what was going on any longer.

“That arena team that obliterated you and your friend last night? You’re talking to them,” Tony proudly exclaimed, reaching to put his arm around Ziva’s shoulder. All of her embarrassment about being found out as a member of the WoW-playing community suddenly vanished as she realized that she was in great company and that she and Tony were about to make McGee’s life hell.

“Get rekt,” was all Ziva said, and when Tony began to howl with laughter, she waited only a few moments before joining him and giving McGee the business about being beaten at his own game.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m ending this here, but I want you to know that despite Tony and Ziva giving McGee some well-earned ribbing for getting beaten by a couple of noobs, they decide to invite him to their arena team so they can do threes, and they’re extremely successful, but decide not to quit their day job and keep it as a hobby instead. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this silly oneshot! 
> 
> **note: “get rekt” is an online colloquialism that people use to insult the other teams when they win.


End file.
